The New Neighbors
by Squirrel Patronus
Summary: A brief story about a wizard living in the Muggle world. The characters are my OCs with the exception of Evelyn Black Snape, who belongs to JosieCarioca. This is a one-shot that is dedicated to her. Severus Snape, Professor Binns, Hogwarts and the HP universe belong to J.K. Rowling.
"The people who bought the Professor's house were here yesterday. They ordered invitations for a housewarming party."

Stephanie Miller looked up from her computer screen and narrowed her eyes at Lauren West, who was tacking sample wedding announcements onto a display board at the front of the shop.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Stephanie asked irritably.

"I forgot. I didn't think that it was important." Lauren said apologetically. Her boss continued to gaze at her with disapproval.

"Why wouldn't you think that it was important, Lauren? They are new clients. I would have liked to have known since I wasn't here to meet them," Stephanie responded, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her tone.

The Professor's house had been vacant for almost a year after the old man had died. Professor Nickleby and his wife had lived there for years. They were a quiet couple who had no children. Jane Proctor Nickleby had lived in the house all her life with her parents, who had both been professors at the local university (which was why the house was known as the Professors' house long before the most recent resident). She had not married Professor Nickleby until she was in her forties, and had predeceased him.

"A very odd man," was the pronouncement on his character by Stephanie's mother, who knew everyone in town. No one knew where he was from. He had a long beard and usually wore a voluminous violet cape in lieu of a coat. He would sometimes be seen in town perusing the book shop or taking a cup of tea at Betty's Tea Room, but he was not social. Stephanie had only seen him once in her shop, Parchment and Ink, when he had made an unusual purchase.

"I would like to order some heavy parchment," he had stated.

"How heavy, Professor Nickleby?" she had asked. He had not answered immediately, fussing with his umbrella handle as he stared at the boxes on the shelves.

"Heavy enough so that ink from a quill will not bleed through," he finally responded. Stephanie stared at him, speechless and fascinated.

"You write with a quill, Professor Nickleby?" she asked.

"Yes." Stephanie waited for him to say more, but he didn't. The silence was awkward, so she rang up his order and watched as the glass door shut behind him. She never saw him again.

"Where is the order, Lauren?"

"Right here." Lauren reached into the drawer by the till and handed Stephanie a card. It was a stiff white vellum with an embossed bottle of wine at the top and a bunch of grapes at the bottom. A piece of paper was clipped to it with Lauren's neat printing.

"Gaenor Best and Augustine Renard invite you to join them for a party in their new home on Saturday, March 12 at 2 p.m.," Stephanie read aloud.

The wonderful thing about owning the local stationery shop was that she not only knew everyone in town, she knew exactly what was going on in their lives. Who was getting married and who was having a baby. Who was changing careers and who was moving. She knew which children were having elaborate parties (and conveniently removed them and any mother who was clueless enough not to invite her children from the social A-list that she controlled). She was irritated that she had been absent when the town's newest residents had come to her shop.

"What were they like, Lauren?" she asked.

"Young—probably in their late twenties or early thirties. They had a toddler girl with them and the woman had a baby bump." Lauren patted her stomach and laughed.

"A bit young to be able to afford a house," Stephanie remarked.

"Oh, the woman is a doctor. She told me that she is working at the medical complex in Chester until the baby is born."

"I see," Stephanie nodded as she studied the invitation. The couple had different names. Were they married? Some women kept their maiden names, but so many young couples were living together and having children without the benefit of a marriage license. That would not be acceptable within her social circle.

"What was the man like?" she inquired. She wasn't going to jump to conclusions by referring to him as the husband.

"He was very polite. He looked over the samples in the book with his wife, but deferred to her about the final selection. He liked our shop and was pleased that there was a book shop in town. I thought that he was handsome," Lauren giggled.

"That's not important, Lauren," Stephanie said sharply. "What does he do?

"

"Oh, ah, I didn't think to ask," Lauren stammered.

"No, you didn't. No matter. I will find out myself," Stephanie said. "When did they say that they would be picking up the invitations?"

"Next Saturday."

"Well, they won't have to wait that long. We can have them printed up by Wednesday and I can deliver them on Thursday. I will get to meet them and welcome them to Stanwich. " Stephanie smiled. She would finally get a glimpse inside the old stone house—and its new inhabitants.

Thursday morning was bright and windy. Stephanie clutched the steering wheel as she maneuvered her Range Rover down the narrow roads on the outskirts of town. They were older roads which had been built when horses and carriages were the normal means of transportation. The town had never bothered expanding them since few people lived in this area. She would have to bring up that point at the next town council meeting.

The high hedges and fence which surrounded the Professor's house came into view after she executed a sharp hair-pin turn. The residents of the house had liked their privacy. Only the top of the roof and the upper windows could be seen from the street.

Stephanie parked the Range Rover in front of the house and unlatched the gate. She took in the front of the house, appraising the heavy wooden door and tall windows, deploring the dilapidated state of the roof and upper dormers. The elderly Nicklebys had let the handsome house fall into a state of disrepair. The new couple would certainly have a lot of work to do.

A group of paint cans placed under the window sill caught her eye. That was good. It looked like the new residents were starting to make repairs. Satisfied, Stephanie walked around the house for a peek at the garden.

What she saw made her pause. It was a blue wooden structure designed to look like a police calling box. How outlandish! Curiosity aroused, Stephanie walked over for a closer look.

The police box was near the kitchen window. On closer inspection, it was a large bird house, with a perch and bowl of fresh water. What type of bird would be kept in here?

"May I help you?" A friendly voice inquired. Stephanie turned to face a man who was standing in the rear entrance.

"Mr. Renard? I'm Stephanie Miller from Parchment and Ink. You ordered some invitations for your housewarming party and I wanted to deliver them myself. Welcome to Stanwich!" Stephanie offered him her hand.

"Oh, thank you! You really didn't have to go out of your way. I'm Gus Renard," He said as he shook her hand. Stephanie swiftly looked at his left hand and noticed a gold band. The couple was married—that was good.

"Call me Stephanie. It was no trouble at all—I wanted to meet you and your wife. Is she in? Here are your invitations."

"Thank you! Please come in."

Stephanie shoved the cardboard box into Gus's hands as she eagerly side-stepped past him into the kitchen.

"Oh, what a charming kitchen!" Stephanie exclaimed, emphasizing the adjective. "Charming" was her code word for old and outdated. An old black iron range with six burners took up most of the wall. The opposite wall was brick, with a deep fireplace. Why keep that? It was huge—four people could have easily stood in it. It was so impractical and most likely drafty. The historical preservation society most likely required that it remain. If she had lived here she would have bricked it up.

It wasn't the fireplace that made Stephanie pause and stare. A tiny owl was having a bath in the sink. He hopped onto the draining board, and shook the droplets off his feathers.

"An owl! What an unusual pet!" Stephanie did not know anyone who kept an owl and wasn't sure that they could be tamed.

Gus Renard looked like the type who would have an outlandish pet. He had a short beard and his thick, curly brown hair needed cutting. He had a pleasant face, however a slight but noticeable gap in his front teeth gave him a gormless expression. He wore jeans, a tartan vest and a rumpled blue shirt. Obviously he had not yet unpacked his iron.

"Oh, that's Doc!" he laughed.

"Doc?" Stephanie frowned.

"Yes. Dr. Hoo! Did you see his house by the window? Gaenor and I built it."

"I see," Stephanie remarked. She knew about Dr. Who, of course, but had never bothered watching the show on television. The people who did were not people who mingled in her social circle.

"Out you go!" Gus opened the window and shooed the owl out. It fluttered into the police box perch that stood outside the kitchen window.

"I'm sorry that Gaenor is out today," Gus told Stephanie. "She's going out on maternity leave in two weeks and wanted to take care of some things at work. I'm taking some time to unpack and take care of Wendy Evelyn. She's napping right now."

"What a pretty name! " Stephanie was both relieved and disappointed that the couple had given such an ordinary, old-fashioned name to their daughter. She was expecting something along the lines of Gaia or Saffron.

"Would you like some coffee? I'm making some now."

"That would be nice. Cream with one sugar." Stephanie preferred tea, but coffee would be fine.

"Come sit in the parlor. Don't mind the boxes—I just finished unpacking this morning."

Finished? They had just moved in three days ago. Was he some sort of magician? Stephanie was disinclined to believe him, but when he led her into the parlor there were pictures on the wall, books on the shelves and baby toys scattered around on the floor. A video game control was wedged between two of the sofa cushions. He must have been wasting his time in front of the telly with that when she arrived.

Now was the time to inspect things while Gus was still in the kitchen. Stephanie walked up to the bookshelf and perused the titles. There were some hefty medical tomes dealing with women's health issues, but most of the books were historical. Kings and Queens of England and the most recent biography of Oliver Cromwell, but also some rather obscure titles.

"History of Magic" by Bathilda Bagshot? What on earth?" Stephanie was about to pull the volume when she noticed that it was next to novels by Tolkien, Lewis and Pratchett. The word "history" had thrown her off—it was obviously another work of fantasy fiction.

She gravitated towards the wall of photos. Pride of place was taken by little Wendy Evelyn: dressed in a Christening gown, seated on the grass in an overly large picture hat, and scooping a handful of cake and frosting into her mouth at her first birthday. She was a pretty little girl, with blue eyes and golden brown curls.

There was also a photo of Gus and Gaenor's wedding. The newlyweds were standing in front of the church door, flanked by their parents. Gaenor was pretty, in a non-descript way. Her tailored gown was elegant, if too plain for Stephanie's taste.

Plain was certainly not the description for the attire worn by the groom's parents. Obviously Gus' mother had not understood that she was not supposed to outshine the bride's mother (who was wearing a simple lilac frock and matching hat). Mrs. Renard was wearing a hat the size of a wagon wheel, which was topped with a veritable flower garden. Her dress reminded Stephanie of Monet's painting of water lilies—greens mixed with blues, whites, and pinks—which somehow worked. Her husband was dressed as outlandishly as she was, maybe more so since he was a man. He was wearing the proper striped trousers and morning coat, but his waistcoat was richly embroidered in a riot of bright colors. He wore his auburn hair in the style of a Victorian dandy—swept back with long sideburns.

Stephanie frowned. Gus' parents looked like wealthy bohemians, which certainly explained the hippy vibe that she was getting from him. She stared at the photo and was taken aback with a sense of unease. The people were not smiling, which was the norm for wedding photos. Gus was looking at his parents anxiously. His mother was staring at Stephanie with a haughty glare of chilly disapproval. Her husband was also staring at Stephanie with a bemused smirk. He winked at her.

"What!" Stephanie gasped and stepped back.

"Here's your coffee, Stephanie."

Stephanie had not heard Gus come in. She turned around to see him standing next to the end table, tucking something into the inside of his vest. Two mugs of coffee and a plate of tarts stood on the coffee table.

"Your photos…" Stephanie looked back at the wedding photo. The six people were smiling at the photographer. Not a smirk, wink, or look of haughty disapproval in sight.

"Your photos are wonderful. Your daughter is lovely," she said quickly. Maybe the stress of her job was making her see things. She sat down on the sofa across from Gus, who sat in a matching armchair. She bit into a tart which she thought was cherry, but turned out to be pomegranate. It was sweet, tart, and delicious with a buttery crust.

"These tarts are sensational! Which bakery are they from?" Stephanie helped herself to a second, silently promising that she was run an extra half mile that evening.

"Thanks! My mother baked them. She stopped by yesterday to help with Wendy Evelyn while I was unpacking."

Stephanie could not picture the icy blonde in the photo baking anything, but simply smiled and sipped her coffee.

"You mentioned that your wife is a doctor."

"Yes. She works with two other doctors in a group specializing in women's health."

"That's good—women feel more comfortable with women doctors. What do you do, Gus?"

"I'm a teacher." That figured. Stephanie never would have pegged him as a banker or one of the other more respectable professions. She wondered where he taught. His bohemian appearance would not pass muster at the local school.

"How nice! Where do you teach?" Stephanie pressed on.

"Oh, you probably haven't heard of it. I work with special children," Gus replied, smiling.

Special children—that was the correct term for intellectually challenged individuals. Retarded children was what they had been known as when Stephanie was in school, although she knew that was no longer an acceptable description. He was correct—she did not know of any of these schools and was not interested, unless there was a fund-raising party for them.

"Well, I hope that both of you feel right at home in Stanwich! Your wife is Welsh—am I right? Where did you live before coming here?"

"We were living in a flat in Chester when my friend told me about this house. He's the great-nephew of the man who used to live here. Prospero inherited the house but had no use for it since he lives in the Cotswolds. We were more than happy to buy it since it is close to Gaenor's job."

"Well, I think that it is wonderful that another academic is living here. Did you know that three professors have lived here? You went to public school—am I right?"

Despite his unkempt appearance, Gus spoke with a rather posh accent. Give him a haircut, shave that beard and find him some neatly tailored clothes and he would clean up nicely. She could see why Lauren thought that he was handsome.

"I did! A rather unique one. The methods of education there were unorthodox, but my parents went there and so did my siblings."

It was not surprising that he would have had an unorthodox education. He didn't seem the type who would have gone to Eton or Harrow. His parents looked like the types who would spend a fortune sending their children to a school which taught classes outdoors and emphasized art and music over math and reading.

"Da!" A tiny voice called from upstairs.

"I'm sorry to cut the visit short," Gus apologized as he stood up. "I'm taking Wendy to visit a friend from work today. She's filling in for me at school while I'm out and I wanted to give her the lesson plans for the next two weeks."

"Of course. It was nice meeting you, Gus. I look forward to meeting Gaenor." That was a lie, but Stephanie smiled pleasantly. "I need to freshen up, and then I'll be on my way."

"The bathroom is right here," Gus guided Stephanie out to the hall way and pointed at a door. "I'll go get Wendy."

Stephanie closed the door and immediately crouched down to see what was in the cabinet under the sink. She was disappointed to find only spare rolls of loo paper and an extra container of hand soap. She stood up to reapply her lipstick in the mirror when her eye noticed a small container of lotion next to the soap.

It was the label that caught her eye. "Bobbins' Calming Cream" was spelled out in large Gothic letters. On the label was a picture of a sleeping baby. Stephanie stared. It was barely noticeable, but the child seemed to be breathing. She turned the bottle around to read the ingredients, but none were listed. Only the brief instruction: "Rub a small amount of cream into skin. Calming effects should last four to eight hours."

How strange! Stephanie looked for a manufacturer's name on the bottle, but could not find one. Curious, she opened the bottle and gently inhaled.

The aroma was sweet, but not overpowering. It brought to her mind a meadow full of summer clover. She squeezed a small amount onto her palm and rubbed it into her hands.

A feeling of gentle calm overwhelmed her. She no longer thought about making it back to work by lunchtime. Let Lauren deal with the Hatfield's delayed order on wedding invitations. The sun was shining outside. It was the perfect day to take a walk in the park or or to take a nap in a sunny garden chair.

Stephanie walked slowly into the hall, smiling at Gus, who was holding a little girl in his arms. She was dressed in a red hooded jacket.

"Well, don't you look like Little Red Riding Hood!" she exclaimed happily. She handed the bottle of lotion to Gus.

"I found it in the bathroom. It looks like it belongs to this pretty little girl."

"Thanks. I was looking for that." Gus looked startled for a second, but Stephanie didn't notice. She felt wonderful and worry free, as if she had just done several hours of yoga or awoken from a refreshing, dreamless sleep.

"Good bye, Gus! Thanks for the coffee. Good bye, little Wendy."

"Bye-bye!" Wendy waved as she and Gus watched Stephanie walk to her parked Range Rover and drive away.

"That was a close call," Gus sighed.

He had been living in the Muggle world for three years now, but was still learning to be ever vigilant. Stephanie had surprised him before he had a chance to cast a spell on the photographs. Thankfully he had been able to take care of that quickly, but he had been careless about leaving out the calming cream. Wendy Evelyn's eighteen month molars were coming in and she was fretful. He had left the bottle on the bathroom sink last night after he had given her a bath. Thankfully it was a mild concoction, but one couldn't be too careful.

"Most Muggles don't believe in magic and will miss a lot. They will see what they want to see and believe what they want to believe, but you always have to keep your guard up." That was the advice that his father had given him when he had announced that he and Gaenor were getting married. There had been a few minor mistakes, of course, but he was getting better at keeping his true identity a secret.

"Ready to see Aunt Evelyn?" He asked his daughter. "She should be amused when I tell her about nosy Mrs. Miller."

Wendy Evelyn gurgled and blew a tiny bubble from her mouth. A visit with his mentor was always a treat, even if it was school related. Evelyn Snape had graciously volunteered to teach his History of Magic classes for a week while he took care of moving into the new house. They both agreed that having ghostly old Professor Binns resume his position would be a disaster, even if it was only for a short time. The Headmaster, who was also Professor Snape's husband, was not as enthusiastic.

"You are not being paid a salary for extended leave, Professor Renard. No longer than one week." He had remarked acidly when Gus and Evelyn informed him of the plan.

Such a remark would have made Gus flinch when he first started the job, but after two years he was used to the stern Headmaster's snide comments. Severus Snape had taken a gamble on forcing Professor Binns into permanent retirement and hiring him as the first paid professor to teach History of Magic in decades. Gus knew that Evelyn Snape was in his corner, but he worked extra hard, putting effort into making what had once been the most boring class at Hogwarts into a lively, interesting and important course. So far the results of his efforts had paid off. For the first time a significant number of the Sixth Year students had chosen to continue the class as a N.E.W.T. Gus was pleased, but was not going to slow down.

To make Evelyn's job a bit easier, he had written out lesson plans for the week. She did not have any classes Thursday afternoon and had invited him to drop them off at her house. Ostensibly it was to go over the work, but that wasn't necessary. Gus knew that she truly wanted to see her namesake. Evelyn had grandchildren of her own, but also doted on the children of friends and former students with whom she remained close.

Gus grabbed a handful of floo powder from a jar on top of the mantle in the kitchen and threw it into the fire. He stepped into the green flames, keeping a firm hold on Wendy Evelyn.

"Household of Evelyn and Severus Snape!" He announced in a clear voice. There was a bright flash of green, and then a wisp of smoke where he and his daughter had previously stood.


End file.
